


The Wizard Hunter

by numbika



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-05
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-12-24 07:22:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12007851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/numbika/pseuds/numbika
Summary: When an aspiring Dark Lord proves to be a problem for the aurors, the Ministry of Magic has to try unorthodox methods to deal with the problem. They hire a troubleshooter. A man who has the reputation of being able to take down its target, regardles it's magical potential, or experience. An outside chance.





	1. Dealings with the magis

Three people sat behind the table in front of me. The table itself was intricately carved and was placed into an almost featureless stone room, which would have looked like a natural rock formation if it wouldn’t have been so damn symmetrical. The room was eerily silent. Wizards and witches love theatrics. The darker one’s waltz around in black robes swinging around black wands while wearing black eyeliner, shoot evil skulls up in the sky to announce their presence, and cackle maniacally. The other side of the spectrum is little better, but even the most practical minded ones couldn’t stop themselves from wearing bathrobes everywhere and pausing in the middle of a conversation for dramatic effect. I gave out a small sigh and waited. 

The guy in the middle was Kingsley Shacklebolt, the current Minister for Magic. He was a relatively tall man of African descent, bald head, by choice or by age I couldn’t tell, he wore a purple robe and had a single gold earring in one of his ears. On his right side sat an old woman, wearing a simple black robe, but decorating it with a golden-ruby sash around her neck. She wore her hair in a modest bum, and had those small rectangular spectacles which could give a newly born rabbit a serious business-like look. Not that she needed it, she had a face like somebody stuck a lime up her ass and left it there. On the left side of the Minister sat a middle-aged man with sparse brown hair, he was slightly overweight and under his thick eyebrow he eyed me with suspicious beady eyes. He wore a brown robe, with ink stains on its sleeves and with a golden M with a wand in the middle of it embroiled on the right side of its chest. The symbol had a small silver A incorporated in it which meant that this particular member of the magical world was an auror. Probably some kind of paper pusher up the ladder, a field agent would take better care of himself or, at best, die. Finally, Shacklebolt spoke. 

\- What do you know of our current predicament Mr…-He moved to lift the paper in front of him. Looked at the paper and frowned. Again, like it wasn’t the second time he played all this trough during this conversation. I started to get a little bit annoyed with the guy. – Guile? Is it your real name? -I had to laugh at the concept. Like anybody would gave out his real name in this kind of business.  
-Sure. My father named me such. His name was Offcoursenot, Offcoursenot Dumbass to be precise. – The women on the right hissed, like somebody just poured water on a hot stove.  
-See Kingslay?! This is just the kind of behaviour I expected from someone like him. This meeting is a waste of time. -Shacklebolt frowned and put the paper down. He steepled his fingers, watching me intently. I gave out a small sigh.  
-All right. I am going to be honest. Not much. I could know much more if I wanted to, but until today it wasn’t really my concern. What I know is what I heard from some bar side rumours. The Ministry is chasing some big time dark magi. Some kind of fanatical admirer of the late dark lord. I assumed everything is under control, but since we are having this conversation its obviously not the case. He got away?  
\- I wouldn’t say that per se…-Shacklebolt shook his head. – We know what is he after. – The Minister of magic gave a small nod to the pudgy man on his left. He stood up and stepping to me tossed a small yellow envelope to my lap. It was already opened. It contained a number of photographs. The living, moving kind. Each depicted a different witch or wizard, aurors I assumed, in the middle of some pretty gruesome tortures. My stomach quivered a little bit I stopped my breakfast from climbing up by sheer force of will and forced myself to study the pictures. Magic if used for evil can do some pretty nightmarish things to people, seeing it in constant motion didn’t help either. The one where the unfortunate victim was turned literally inside out but was still alive, was one of the better ones. Somebody wrote a small message in black marker on the backside of each and every one of them. “Those who pure of blood shall rejoice, as the bringer of power will be avenged, on the day when the old order fell, a new one will arise by the will of the worthy.” The pencil pusher sat back and all three magi looked at me like they were waiting for something. I scratched my chin and nodded.

\- Let’s see, if I am not mistaken. - I held up the five photographs. I was more than a little satisfied that all three of them flinched at the sight of them. – These are the group of aurors you tasked to track this wannabe evil overlord and his minions. And the ominous massage inscribed here, is most mean that he is planning something on the day when the Dark Lord got put down for the second time. If I have to guess, they are going to target either the Procession held in Diagon Alley, or the celebration at the Hogwarts. – The women on the right gave out a small irritated “ch” so I must have got at least partially right. Shacklebolt nodded at me.  
-The Procession. We are sure of it. The last report we got from the Auror team confirms that they have only half a dozen members. No matter how crazy they are, attacking the Hogwarts with six people would amount to nothing but suicide. Especially since a number of powerful wizards, including some of the most famous aurors, were invited to the celebration. All of them will be checked by security before they are allowed to step inside the schoolgrounds. -It was my turn to nod. Probably true. Attacking the place where the Dark Lord fell on the day when he died would be the same thing as jumping into a lake of nails wearing armour made out of balloons.   
-On the other hand. -I murmured slowly. – The Precession consist of more than two hundred wizards, and assorted gawkers and tourists with various levels of magical expertise, including children’s and elderly. Not only perfect place to mingle in the crowd, but also to sow as much terror as possible. I have to agree with your assessment. And I guess my job is going to be to…- I started but Shacklebolt cut me off.

-Provide security and find out what they are hoping to do before they accomplish the act. The enemy are well versed in magic, especially in concealment spells, and they will most likely be able to slip past wards and warning circles. If they are as good in evading detection by magical means as it seems, then we have to use alternative methods. You, Mr. Guile are quite renowned of your expertise in this kind of thing. – I couldn’t stop a slow smile from crawling up on my face. Its god to be recognised. Then a thought struck me, and the smile widened.  
-And, of course, aurors by law should always try to capture the suspect, and identify themselves, aren’t they? On the other hand, I can just end them before they even see me. – Shacklebolt frowned again but didn’t deny it which was as the same as admitting it. The women on his right bit her lips in anger. I heard her hissing something about “bloodthirsty killers”. I take offense to that. I am a trouble-shooter. As In if I see trouble, I shoot it. Preferably with a couple of different things from far away. – Don’t worry. I know my job. What’s the baby evil overlords name? – It was the Aurors turn to speak. It was the first time I heard his voice. Despite his chubby exterior his voice was clear and hard as stone.   
-Darien Selwyn. Either he or one of his close relatives fought on the Dark Lords side in the Second Wizarding war. His compatriots are mainly radicalised small time criminals, except for Sarah Yaxley, another possible Ex- Death Eater. – I gave out a small whistle. It was hard to find real actual Death Eaters on the wild nowadays. They weren’t too much to begin with, the Dark Lords army mostly consisting of criminals who followed him in the hope of gaining power of fame, but after years and years of the aurors hunting them down, the one or two which remained free mostly kept their heads down in remote places, trying to forget their pasts. But not these two apparently. They were clearly mad if they thought they could bring back the rule of black magic, but the rabid dogs bite are even more dangerous so its best If I’m going to be real careful with this job. 

-All right. I need double the usual fee. -The auror grunted and his eyes flickered to the Minister. Shacklebolt gave him a small nod, which the man instantly conveyed to me with a similar gesture. – Wonderful. Then I will take this with me, who know they might help me with something. – I slid the small envelope of photographs into my coat pocket. - And take my leave. – As I started to rise the old witch lifted up her hand in a staying gesture. I blinked at her, she looked at me like I was some kind of particularly ugly thing she happened to find under her nails.  
-Before you go. I wouldn’t have agreed to his ridicoulus plan, if you were given free hand. One Douglasses the aurors is going to accompany you. -The pudgy auror, apparently Douglass straightened himself out, bracing himself for some kind of outrage from me. Perhaps along the line of how “I work alone man, I don’t need anyone.” I gave him a small shrug.  
-Sure. You are the one who is paying, and one more body between me and any harmful magic. Who’s the guy? – Dougless gestured to the door where I come in.  
-Weasley, he is waiting outside. -I glanced towards the door and then back to the man, and lastly to the Minister.   
-Is he serious? Weasley? Hell, if you want me to be so friggin noticeable give me Potter! Or better, a full squad of aurors in neon clad robes playing disco music on accordions. – Walking around with tall guy with flame red hair, who is famous because he helped saving the world, made the subtle parts of the job borderline impossible. Shacklebolt gave me a weary shrug, mirroring my earlier gesture.  
-That’s our condition. Take it or leave it. – I should have left it alone. That would have been the sensible and logical choice. I almost said so when I caught a small whisper from the older women while she leaned closer to the minister. “He is going to refuse it…I knew we shouldn’t trust something like that to a…”   
-I accept it. -I heard my voice loud and clear before my thoughts could even think it through properly. Damn. That’s what a lifetime of inferiority complex does to a man. Still. What’s done is done. At least that shut the old hag up good. I spun around and strided out the room, trying very hard to not look like somebody who was sure about this operation going to hell in the first five minutes.


	2. A troubleshooter, an auror, and a pile of trouble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Guile meets up with his temporary partner, Ronald Weasley, auror. Together they have a makeover, go for a drink, and visit a dark wizard in its hideout. Typical slow afternoon in our "hero's" line of work.

Auror Weasley was a gaunt but muscular man, relatively tall. The man had the typical fiery red hair, the typical marker of all members of the Weasley family, and combining it with a pale blue eyes and a couple of freckles scattered across his cheeks. Despite that, his features grown far from the boyish exterior his face sported on the cover of the newspapers along with the defenders of Hogwarts all those years ago. He was more rugged somehow more mature, and when I stopped before him the auror looked me like he just encountered a particularly ugly garden gnome. Despite that he extended his arm for a handshake.  
\- Mr. Guile I assume? Auror Ronald Weasley. – I shook his hand briefly and I nodded to the opening of the cave, indicating that he should follow me. He grunted but did so. After a couple of steps in silence he coughed a little. - So, we are going to work together?  
\- Apparently. I didn’t have much say in the matter. – I murmured and started walking up in the stairs carved into the living stone. It was a natural cave, a former druid gathering place and assorted neutral ground for the Ministry of magic for meeting with the shadier elements of the magical world.  
\- Neither did I. We already have so much in common. – I shook my head and sidestepped a small puddle on the stone steps. Wonderful. A wiseass. One is more than enough for a job and I have that place reserved for me from the get go.  
\- So, what did they tell you? I assume you pretty much know everything I do. – The auror nodded and fiddled with his badge while the cave opening emerged on the stop of the stairs.  
\- Pretty much. I don’t know why you are necessary for thi…Hey! - The last remark was due to me snatching his badge from his chest the moment we stepped outside. – What the hell are you doing?! Don’t touch my badge! 

I gave it back to him.  
\- While you are working with me hide this. And we are going to do with something with your red hair too. As you are now, a half blind mole could spot you from half a mile away. – Weasley grunted, his face a little bit red with anger.  
\- I know that. I already wanted to hide it myself. Asshole. – I shrugged a little bit.  
\- Then you are already more intelligent than half the aurors I had the misfortune to meet. But it still leaves your hair. I assume you want to use some kind of obfuscating charm, or something.  
\- Or something. Yes. – I nodded sagely while we started to walk down from the small hill. At the edge of it, there was a small road, with a couple of parking spaces. For the normal folk, it was a stopping point before going to camping or hiking.  
\- Good, good. Don’t do that. I will bring you a hair salon. We dye with something that comes down after a couple of weeks. – He snorted and looked at me like I just proposed to him to acquire a couple of breast implants.  
\- What? Are you out of your mind? Why would I do that?  
\- Because using this type of magic is exactly what an auror would do. The dark wizard types are expecting it, probably scanning for it constantly. It’s not so hard to detect if you know what to look for, its mostly good to surprise unsuspecting people. – He frowned at me when I stepped beside my car. 

It was a Ford Escort in relatively good condition, grey coloured, mostly unremarkable. He reached for the door for the passenger seat but before he could touch the door handle I swiftly jammed the key into the driver seat lock and opened it. He raised his eyebrows questioningly.  
\- Security system. - I told him. – It’s a right bitch to shut it down. 

Weasley shook his head disapprovingly and sat in beside.  
\- We are going to the hair salon. And I know somebody who works with a film studio. You are going to get a few layers of makeup and nobody would ever tell that you are a Weasley. - The auror glowered at me and crossed his arms in front of his chest.  
\- An exactly why is this necessary?  
\- Because I intend to acquire information from seriously dark places. – I said connecting my seatbelts. After a little bit of deliberation, he followed my example.  
\- The aurors probably already checked all of them. - He told me grumpily while I started the ignition.  
\- I am sure of it. That’s why they didn’t get anything important. Because they were aurors. Nobody worth a damn would tell anyone to an auror. At least nobody who liked to wake up in the same shape she or he gone to sleep. – And with that, I left the parking lot and started down on the road to London. The auror leaned back, still fuming.  
\- Cheer up mate. At least you can choose your new hair colour. – Instead of answering he just glared at me on the rest of the way.

The Redcap wasn’t the best pub in London. Okay it is a gross understatement. The Redcap was probably the worst pub in London, but definitely worst among the establishments with ties to the magic world. 

The little dinky room could only be accessed from an alleyway door, which for an ordinary human looked like the teeth of a particularly big and ugly graffiti goblin. If you know which points of the “street art” you had to touch, and in which order, the teeth creaked open, and you were allowed to enter. Nor that you should, but if you choose to anyway, the pub encompassed one long bar table with thirteen stools, two toilettes, and a severely damaged but still usable pool table. This one had a couple of bloodstained dried onto its top. 

On one of the wall, there was a stuffed house elf, functioning as the pubs darts table. That was the only overtly magical thing in the whole place, but when somebody started to get confrontational…I have seen people shouting horrific and disfiguring curses at each other like they were minor cuss words. 

When me and the auror stepped in, there was only two patrons there, and the owner, Thomas the troll. Thomas of course wasn’t a real troll, a real troll would probably eat the glasses and wreck the place, but he was the next best thing. He was big, dirty, relatively hairless, and had a disturbing tendency to pick his nose in front of his customers. He had about as much warm kindness in him as a dead fish in the middle of a glacier. Oh, and I saw him once snapping somebodies neck like it was a KitKat bar. 

We sauntered in, and sat down. I have to say, both the hairdresser and the makeup master did a masterful job. Weasley now sported a head of night black hair, had some serious bags under his eyes, like he hasn’t slept well in days, and with a subtle shading, his face looked much more bony, and lean than before. Gone were the freckles, and his nose looked a little bit bulkier than before. All in all, anybody who didn’t seen him day to day would mistake him for somebody else. He wore an everyday dusty black wizarding robe, forsaking his newer and better auror one. I on the other hand opted for a little bit more muggle attire. Black t-shirt, unremarkable jeans, and a little bit puffy grey jacket. 

The wind started to become quite chilly at this time of the year. Thomas and his two patrons gave us an appraising look, apparently, we passed the “not too rich, or authority figurey “, test because they quickly returned to their drinks. I sat down and ordered two beers, in a bottle. Based on how much Thomas liked mining for green gold with his fingers I wouldn’t trust him with keeping his glasses clean. When we got the drinks, I finished mine and pushed the empty bottle back to the owner with a small bag. He looked into it and counted on his hand. When he finished he scrunched his eyebrows and looked at me.  
\- Twenty galleons. Why? – Longer sentences seemed to strain his brain so he tried to keep it short.  
\- Information. – I told him while Weasley slowly drunk his beer.  
\- I am selling beer. Not information. – Said Thomas with a low growl, but pocketed the bag and pushed another beer to me. – So, I am not telling you anything. 

I nodded slowly and opened my beer while the barkeep fiddled with an old radio, adjusting its setting. Suddenly music blared out of the small thing, an old Edith Piaf song. Must have been some kind of retro station. Thomas pushed it a little bit farther and then leaned on the counter.  
– All right mate. But make it snappy. What do you want to know?  
\- Darien Selwyn, or any of his associates. Where can I find them? – Thomas eyed me, and then Weasley suspiciously.  
\- Why do you want to know? - I sighed and shook my head slowly.  
\- Thomas, you got mixed up a little bit about our roles. It was me who payed you so you would answer my questions. Not the opposite. If you want to do that you have to give my back my galleons. - The barkeep took a step backwards and placed his hand on his pocket, protectively.  
\- Nah. Its good like this. I don’t know much…- He hesitated stepping closer to the radio again.  
-But you know something, don’t you? - The man gave me a little nod and then took out a scrap of paper from the pocket of his stained apron.  
\- Wormwood Radcliff, he is sort of a little shite but he is in everything that’s dirty. A couple of days ago he come with a right big bag of galleons, and paid for the rounds the whole night. When he was drunk as a skunk, he mentioned the Selwyn name. This is his address. I don’t know anything else, don’t even want to. - He glanced to his patrons. One weathered old man, with sparse gray beard, and a younger brown haired with half of his face burned by something. Both of them were deeply immersed in their drinks. - Somebody with enough coin to give this much galleon to a rat like Wormwood is too much trouble. 

And with that he stepped away from us, refilling the now empty beer mug of the older patron. I murmured to the auror.  
\- Well, we already got a lead. Let’s go. - I caught his eyes. He watched me as if I was some kind of wizard. I mean…Bad choice of words, he is a wizard so he would be comfortable around them. - What?  
\- No way that worked. That only works in the films. I know I tried. – I blinked at him while we walked outside.  
\- Really? Did it occurred to you that the problem might be that there is no magical newspaper in which you haven’t appeared a couple of years back with your friends with the title “The Heroic defenders of Hogwarts now join the aurors”, while I am a shady trouble-shooter? - He snorted, and we walked out to my car. 

\- I guess we are using this car because they will have contingencies in place against apparition? – Weasley asked while I turned down from the main road into a parking lot.  
\- Yeah something like that. - I nodded and stopped the car. I took out the key, and after the auror stepped out, I opened the glove compartment. Inside the small space, there was a number of items, piled up, papers, crystals, small glass containers. After a little bit of rummaging I found what I searched for and took it. It was a small sawed-off shotgun. It was custom made for me, the barrel and stock was covered with intricate carvings. It was frankly a work of art, and was well worth the price, even if said price was about as much as a smaller castle. When I closed the car door, Weasley stepped beside me, wand drawn and ready, and irked an eyebrow at me.  
\- What’s that?  
\- Well usually I wouldn’t tell that to an auror, but this is what we in the business call a highly illegal piece of merchandise. – He studied the shotgun a little bit.  
\- For the muggles or the magical world?  
\- Both I assume. – I answered and loaded both barrels on the gun, before clicking it close. Weasley eyed me suspiciously, and I nodded to him to go forward. – Well? You are the lawful servant of order and justice. Lead the way auror. – I earned another grunt. This was around the dozenth down the line that day. Nevertheless, he did as I said so.  
The building was a five story high apartment complex with a small open space in the middle. In its prime it must have been quite a lovely place with potted plants, and white stone tiles in the open courtyard, but that must have been at least ten or twenty years ago. Now the walls and the stone tiles were cracked and dirty from years of abrasions. Graffities covered the still intact surfaces, mostly gang symbols or simple crude drawing, nothing as elaborate as the one which function as the front of the Redcap. There was even a rusted out washing machine just left there in the right side of the yard, slowly crumbling under the assault of the elements. There were still a couple of pots here and there in the upper floors, but they were either empty, or long dead brown yellow corpses of the former plants occupied them. Some of the windows were cracked, others were boarded up altogether.  
\- Such a lovely place. - Weasley mused looking around. – I mean, I have grown up in a household where I had to use second hand toothbrushes, but this place is a dump. Which door is this Wormwoods?  
\- Third floor, tenth one if the note is correct. – I nodded to him taking out the scrap of paper Thomas handed to me.- There should be a set of stairs somewhere. – We found it relatively easily. It was also covered with graffities, and beer cans and cigarette buds covered almost every step. I had the misfortune to step into something sticky and foul smelling.  
\- I hope to god this is some kind of rotten vegetable. – I grumbled. – What kind of dark wizard would live in a place like this?  
\- Nowadays? – Weasley gave me a small shrug while we started counting the doors. The numbers beside them fallen out a long time ago. – Pretty much all of them. The surviving ones are mostly the cowards and those who were the scum even in within the Death Eaters. The petty monsters. Those who couldn’t live without their families’ wealth or were prone to desperate last stands, and big symbolic actions in the name of the “Pureblood world” were captured within the first few years.  
\- Seems like you missed one. - I chimed in. He growled me again. I just couldn’t help it. It was just too easy. We stopped in front of Wormwoods door. It was an olive coloured one with cracked painting, and rusted handles. Before we could knock or even gather our thoughts, a muffled sound came from behind the door.  
\- Bombarda! – The doorway simply exploded. The shockwave pushed me across the railing. I felt myself falling and desperate swung my hand out to grab onto something. Fortunately, I was able to grab one of the still intact flower pots on the previous floor The metal screws used to fix it to the railing creaked and gave up. I found myself falling again, although now with a considerably less speed and height. The fall was still a fall though and ended in a loud crunch and a sudden stab of red hot pain in my wrist and shoulder. I hissed and rolled to my back, feeling the familiar throbbing sensation. I have broken them. I was sure of it. Shit.

There was a shout from up there, and the sure tell green glow of a killing curse illuminated the hallway. It must have missed its target, or he dodged it, since there was two more after that, and the other combatant, I assume Weasley answered with a clearer shout of “Confundo” and a “Locomotor Corpus”, both spells flying back at his attacker. After that there was a burst of swearing from the auror. 

Steps thundered down the stairs, and I pushed myself up from my resting place drawing my shotgun with my working hand. Wormwood was a short wiry man, with a three-day stubble and an elongated face, which conjured the mental image of a squirrel. He ran down the stairs as fast as he could, his robe moved like a gigantic black flag in the wind. He was looking back, expecting Weasley to follow him. Keeping his wand ready to release a deadly curse on him as soon as he appears. I didn’t give him a chance. It couldn’t had been a clearer shot. 

The shotgun thundered and spat a small cloud of flames, and within a fraction of a moment Wormwood encountered a couple of dozen metallic pellets. His cloak flashed, like it had some sort of protection, but then red mist erupted from the man’s chest, his body momentarily staggered by the shot. I caught the disbelief in his eyes, before they became glassy and he stumbled down the remaining couple of stairs, lifeless. After a second or so, the auror appeared panting. His face was bruised, and I could see a splinter of wood embedded in his flesh, not far under from his left eye. Otherwise he looked relatively unscathed.  
\- He had a Shield cloak. Like the ones we aurors have…- He explained slowing down and stopping behind the late Wormwood. -Its impervious against small curses and jinxes. The new ones provide some physical protection too, against knives and explosions. Is he…Dead? – He prodded the man with his foot. Wormwood remained motionless.  
\- Well I hope so because frankly I don’t want to fight anybody who can regrow his entire chest, no matter how much your government pays me. – I answered with a slight grunt of pain. Now that the adrenaline started to fade from my body, the feeling of broken bones became that much worse by the second. He nodded a little still prodding the corpse.  
\- How the hell your gun got through his Shield cloak? I think they could stop bullets too. -He asked suddenly. I raised my gun with my good hand.  
\- Dragon heartstring worked into the stock. Isn’t much good for actual spells but …It can blow through most magical defence I encountered. – Weasley crouched down and took a look at his wounds.  
\- By Merlin’s saggy left testicle. -He swallowed, then tilted his head to the right, noticing a gleam on one of the metal fragments.- It’s…gold?  
\- Just some specks of it in the pellets. Makes them brittle, but gold is the hardest metal to do magic on. Turning it into something, or turning something into it, is almost impossible. Helps with the effect. Don’t know why. -I shrugged and stepped closer to closer to the auror. He sighed and stood up.  
\- Well since we cant interrogate him now, we should search his house. Maybe we find something. – I nodded to him, slowly breathing. The pain became even more throbbing. He glanced at my limp hand.  
\- Broken? -I nodded to him. He raised his wand, resulting in a small flinch from me. I don’t really like when somebody pointing a wand at me. – Don’t worry. We are thought essential magic first aide during training. Now if I remember correctly…  
\- If you remember correctly?! -Before I could protest he made a complicated gesture and said.  
\- “Brackium Emendo” – The tip of his wand erupted in blue glow, enveloping my shoulder and wrist. I clenched my teeth together so I wouldn’t scream out as the bones gave out a wet cracking sound, reasserting themselves, before they mended together. I blew out the air I confined in my lungs during the treatment, panting a little.  
\- Thanks, I guess being able to use magic has its advantages. – The words escaped from my mouth before I could have stopped them. Damn. Weasley face became as blank as a paper. I could see the wheels working inside his head. -I mean..  
\- “Being able to use magic”, so that’s why you have that weapon instead of a wand. And why we came with car instead of apparition. You can’t use magic, can you? – DAMN. Bloody fucking hell. That’s just what I needed for this day.


	3. Cautionary tale to aspiring Dark lords, and a job well done.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of rummaging in a dead guys house, finding a pool of blood and its source, and visiting a lovely precession with a body count. Start of a new assignment, or in other words, nowadays every story has a sequel.

\- So, what are you? - I sighed and scratched my head with the end of the shotgun. Weasley waited patiently for my answer, folding his arms.  
\- Look we shouldn’t just stand here, let’s look around in his house before the non-magical authorities arrive. – I started to walk up the stairs, the auror followed close behind.  
-If you don’t answer me I could just stop and return to headquarters that you wouldn’t cooperate with me and denying me vital information. I have to know what can you do…you know for tactical reasons. 

I snorted, this time sidestepping the sticky goo on my way to the second floor. Damned aurors.   
\- All right. - I glanced at him angrily. 

If looks could burn, he would have transformed into a quite hefty bonfire. Unfortunately, as it was evident even to him at this point, I can’t really do anything overtly magical. So instead of instantly combusting, he just looked at me expectantly. 

\- I am a squib if you really want to know it. Or something very close. I have some magic, just really, really small amount. I can use enchanted objects and magical items just fine, and I have talent to…Well for lack of a better word, feel magic. I can tell if some place, some object or area is under some kind of magical effect or not just by being near it. I can even tell you a general feeling of it, but as to what kind exactly that’s another question altogether. 

I stopped in front of the destroyed doorway. It looked like somebody detonated a small homemade explosive taped to the inside of the erstwhile door. The frame was torn asunder, its upper part most likely shattered along with the thinner wood, leaving the concrete wall around it fractured and sheering of its paint. There was a small room behind it, torn coats and robes, and a couple of pair of shoes scattered everywhere where the detonation threw them. After that, an open doorway and a dark room. Wormwood probably kept the shutters down. 

– And off course I don’t have a wand. Even I have one…do you know that magic? The one where you make light appear in the end of it?  
\- Why? Is it dark in there?  
\- N…Yes actually. But that’s not the point. - I rummaged inside my pocket and pulled out a small plastic tube. I bent it, after a small cracking sound, it began to emit a bright green glow. It was a short-term glow-stick, provides decent illumination for an hours or so, before starting to fade in contrast to ones which can work for a whole night, but provide only faint light. - My point…- I said while transferring the glow-stick to my left hand, raising the shotgun with my right. Shit…Did I reload? I didn’t, did I? If I am going to die because Weasleys pestering I swear I come back to haunt his family. 

– My point is that no matter how hard I would try, the best I could do with it would be the equivalent of the cheap knockoff glow in the dark stickers you can buy in a gas station. Do you have any more question before we walk into a dark room from which a dark wizard just attacked us, or we can act like professionals and continue the investigation?  
\- Thank you for asking. I do have some questions. If you don’t have any substantial magic, why don’t you just live like a muggle? You are basically one anyw… 

I stopped before stepping inside and slowly turned to face the auror. His self-preservation instinct must have been kicked in because after seeing the expression on my face he stopped in mid-sentence. I couldn’t see it myself, for obvious reasons but when I spoke, my words were harsh cold as the heart of winter.   
\- Weasley, I tell you only once. Don’t call me a Muggle. I already killed for it, and I would do it again. And I don’t want to do that to you. I like your style, you are a good man. Don’t ever call me that again, and I stay as much the friendly trouble-shooter as I was before. – He swallowed, no doubt remembering the late Wormwood in the bottom of the stairs. The moment passed and he shook his head.  
\- Woah, touchy subject I assume.  
\- You have no frikkin idea how much. - I turned around, now stepping inside the apartment. 

The room the light of the glow stick illuminated was relatively big for an apartment. The shutters on the two windows were indeed down, the lines to draw them up nowhere to be found. Two couches faced each other, a small coffee table between them. On it a couple of dirty mugs and plates, one of them still looked fresh. 

The green glow also illuminated a small fire place, god knows how did Wormwood built it into an apartment, but hey, wizard be crazy. On the wall, opposite of the fire place hung a spherical mirror above a small bookshelf. On the bookshelf, a small pot. Possibly for potions, and a couple of other typical magical accessories, like silver knives, a couple of quills, and small pamphlets. There were three additional doors in the room, on one of them had a small crescent moon symbol hanging on it from a nail. Some kind of tacky house decoration. 

Weasley watched me suspiciously, but he must have decided that the mission is more important than my insecurity issues about the word he used so he stepped inside.   
\- I take the bookshelf, you check around the fire place. – I said stepping to the small wooden contraption. It must have been those “do it yourself furniture” kind of things, because it was made out of cheap wood, covered in black paint, and more than a bit crooked. 

Weasley shrugged but didn’t protested. I first checked the pamphlets, they were the typical dark wizard propaganda stuff you can find in the toilettes of the shitty pubs like the Redcap. “Answer the call of the Pure Blood”, “Why shouldn’t Wizards control the world? We are the born rulers of it”, and of course “The Mudborn menace”. These kinds of papers were commonplace during the brief but deadly regime of the Death Eaters and their leader, and still appear time to time no matter how much the aurors try to stop their circulation. They are mostly harmless in my opinion, those who read these things are the same one who print them, deluded idiots who blame every problem of their life on someone else. They are pretty good as emergency toilet paper though when somebody already used up the real one.

I swept them aside, but found nothing under them. I crouched to inspect what few books there was. Most of them were similar in tone and sentiment, a couple of them from far older writers, these also proved to be irrelevant to our investigation. I sighed cracking my shoulder and turn to Weasley who was in the process of slowly scraping the ashes of the fireplace into the carpet.   
\- What the hell are you doing? – I asked, blinking in confusion. 

\- Watch and learn. - He answered, putting down the poker and dusting of his hands. - I saw some still intact scraps of paper. - He pointed his wand to the now utterly dirty red-brown carpet and whispered. – “Reparo”- The ash swirled, and a couple of scraps of paper flew out of the pile. They ordered themselves, outlining the vague shape of a paper with huge swaths of writing missing from it. Some slowly knit itself together with a couple of others, but the majority stood alone. Then the magic faded and they have fallen down into a small pile in front of the auror. 

\- Damn…they are too damaged. I doubt we get anything more of them. – He rummaged through the burnt scraps of paper. – A couple of word, no actual context. 

I stepped beside him, watching them as he spread them in front of himself. Most of them only contained small syllables, there was a couple of “…the si…” , “..ur wan..” and the likes of that. Then Weasley grinned and raised a bigger scrap.  
\- Bingo. – On the paper stood a single word and a couple of letters “…Remembrance. Tha… “. I nodded at him sagely, thinking furiously. Remembrance. What the hell is that mean. Then it struck me.  
\- The Chariot of Remembrance. That’s their target. – It was, in hindsight, an obvious one. It was one of the main points of the precession. A huge chariot, pulled by four thestrals. Black as the darkest night, except the hundreds, thousands of golden names carved into every inch of the wood it was made from. It must have been some kind of special magic wood too, I just didn’t know what kind. 

On top of the chariot stood an art piece made out of golden statues. There was a wizard, a muggle, a centaur, veela and a couple of others, even a house elf, (I believe the last one due to quite formidable pressure from Potter and his associates, particularly from Ganger.) signifying that the dark lord reign took their victims from everyone. The aforementioned names carved into the wood to be forever remembered. Staging a successful attack on that…Darien Selwyn would probably become the most prominent dark wizard in the country, and would help him gathering some really dangerous people under his banner.   
\- Most likely. We can’t be sure, but its logical and that’s our only lead so far. Maybe we can find something else in here to clarify it. – Said Weasley glancing around. - We haven’t even seen the where the other doors lead. 

He stood up, trying to get the sticky black burnt ashes from his hand with the end of his sleeves. The other rooms were just as uninteresting as the bookshelf I investigated. The bedroom contained some spare robes, more dark wizard propaganda pamphlets, an unkempt bed. The kitchen and the combined toilet-bathroom was even more empty of leads.

The only information I got from the two rooms that Wormwood rarely bathed, and was fond of the wizarding version of the Playboy magazine. He had at least two whole year worth of it as a reading material beside the toilet bowl. I did not slip any of it under my clothes. That would be unprofessional. I am a professional kind of guy. I just finished folding the September issue of the Naughty Wands when Weasley shouted.  
\- Guile! I just heard a boom from outside. It sounded like it came from the same direction where we left the car. – I let out a small cuss word and basically flew out of the small bathroom, running for the door. Weasley was already outside, as I passed him I barked a few words.  
\- I think It’s the Security System in the car. Somebody is messing with it. - His eyes widened and he too started to run after me. I was already halfway down the stairs. The car was parked in a relatively wide alley not far from the apartment complex. When I turned down to the alley I instantly saw it. 

A huge puddle of blood laid splashed near one side of the car. Near the edge of it, a single leg, clad in jeans, twitched slightly. In the middle of it a pile of…Oh god. My stomach made a backflip. I was in the troubleshooting business for a while. I have seen gunshots, knife wounds, curses, charms, burns, acid damage and animal mauling…but I relatively rarely see anything like that. And thank god, I didn’t had time to get used to it. So, I just steadied myself on a nearby wall, and granted safe passage trough my mouth to the beer which I drunk in Tom’s bar, and which now had an extreme desire to see the outside world again. 

I heard Weasley footsteps behind me. I wanted to warn him, but my mouth was currently occupied. He stopped not far from me. I heard him retch, but due to the lack of splashing noises he must have been faster to avert his gaze than I was.   
\- Is…that? - I heard him still choking on his words a little.  
\- A…a pile of torn guts I believe. With some assorted hangers on. And a leg for cherry on top. Fuck …- I answered him still panting a little. I rummaged through my pocket and wiped my mouth clean. The iron rich smell of the blood was thick in the air.   
\- By Merlin’s engorged hairy left testicle what kind of twisted security system do you have? – I shook my head, although I wasn’t sure if he was looking or not. I forced my gaze to return to the gruesome picture, slowly getting used to the sight. When I felt like I could start getting close to it without starting to vomit again, I did so.   
\- I’ve got nothing like that. I only had a couple of shotgun shell embedded into the driver door. If somebody uses a spell to open the lock, without the key to close a circuit, it triggers a firing mechanism. - I pointed to a missing section in the door not far from the window. It had three empty cylinders inside it, wired to a trigger - Its nasty, but Its sure as hell can’t do this. I don’t know what can. - I glanced back at Weasley. 

He was white as a sheet slowly stepping closer. As an auror he must have seen some pretty horrific sights, maybe that’s why he was able to get himself together this fast.   
\- I think I do. Based…- He swallowed looking at the missing section on the door. -Based on the angle of which you placed those shells, I think he, or she…- He glanced at the pile of shredded entrails, the now perfectly still leg, and got a shade greener. - God I hope it’s a he. So, I think it got a gut shot. And then, maybe in a panic, tried to Apparate and got splinched. Bloody idiot. - I shook my head incredulously.   
\- Something like this could happen when you teleport? And you still do it? You are all crazy.   
\- If you don’t concentrate enough, you can leave parts of you behind. Usually, it’s just small portions, a fingernail, or something like that. But if you do it when you are in terrible pain and can’t concentrate at all…- He never finished it. He didn’t have to. The remains spoke for themselves.   
\- You think the other half Is still…  
\- Good I hope not. - He answered and now even he couldn’t stop his rebelling stomach. I patiently waited until he too emptied it. The blood started to cool, but its scent was as permeating as ever.   
\- We have to go. If somebody sees us with this…

The auror nodded straightening himself out. I offered him my stained handkerchief but he refused it and used his own. I opened the slightly blood-stained car door with my keys, and sat inside.  
\- Yes, all right. We should report to the auror office so that they can tighten the security around the Chariot of Remembrance. - He stepped beside the passenger seat and I opened it to him. He looked at the door, and then to me.  
\- The one with the buckshot’s in the door wasn’t the only “security measure”, am I right?  
\- Maybe. - I nodded to him starting the car, and slowly backing out from the alley. - And by the way… we can’t let the aurors tighten the security around the chariot. I think our aspiring dark lord already knows we are after him. The poor bastard who tried to open the car door with magic was obviously after us. Maybe he wanted to curse the seatbelts to strangle us, or the seats to eat us or something…If we let Darien Selwyn sniff out that we know what he intends to do, he will just fold, and choose another target. One we have no chance to predict. 

Weasley scratched his chin thinking, and then nodded to me sighing.   
\- Then what should we do? 

I shook my head driving down the road, searching a for a car washer with my eyes. There wasn’t much blood in the door, but it wouldn’t hurt washing it down. Off course before that, I will cover the place where the trap was with some duct tape.  
\- Frankly I have no idea yet. We have to catch them by surprise.   
\- The worst thing is…- Weasley said in a morose tone. - If they knew that we are after them. Then I died my hair for no reason at all. – I was unable to hold back a small chuckle looking at him in the mirror.   
\- Well, yeah that’s a…- Then it hit me. Weasley looked completely different then he supposed to be. And the guy who tailed us is obviously dead. I doubt he had time to give a detailed report to his boss about us. Even if he did...- Say, Weasley, you look quite eerie with this new hairdo. – He glowered at me raising his eyebrows.  
\- Are you making fun of me?  
\- Not right now. What I am getting on about is this, with the ceremonial clothes the chariot driver wears, nobody could tell that you are not him. It’s always somebody who look like a particularly solemn morgue worker. - He too examined himself in the small window inside the car. He made some faces, and then shrugged smiling a little.  
\- It could work. And where are you going to be? - I turned down from the road, stopping in the car stop of “Power Spreader Car Wash”. I turned off the engine.  
\- I am going to be watching your back. Check this out. – I turned back between the two seats, and rummaged a little in the foot space behind us. I unzipped the huge sport bag situated there just outside of the view of any casual passenger and the sat back so he could take a peak. He did so and then froze in the spot.  
\- What the hell is that? - I snorted with theatrical outrage.   
\- Hey! It’s not a “that” it’s a “she”, and her name is Hécate. - I folded my arms disapprovingly. - You should apologise. - He glanced at me and then examined the insides of the sports bag again.  
\- And what do you use it…  
\- Her.- I specified.  
\- And what do you use her for?- He grunted- To hunt dragons? – I could feel a huge grin slowly spreading across my face. I just love when they set me up for a one liner.  
\- No. I use her to hunt wizards. 

\--

The weather was relatively fine on the day of the Precession. In contrast to the established customs in stories and movies, most days when big things happen are remarkably unremarkable, if such a thing even exist. This was no different, a couple of stray clouds on the sky, no foreboding cloud cover to block the sky, or even a distant thundering storm, just sunshine, and some wandering cirrus. All the better for the precession, and for me.

I was on the attic of a boarding house, I rented a room one floor below, and came up here before down. It wasn’t really an attic per say, only a small space under the tiles, so if a particularly big storm shatter some of them, they could easily be replaced. It was dusty and I had to chase out two particularly aggressive pigeons, and take care of a very small nest of doxys, but fortunately I bring a bottle of doxycide. It wasn’t my first rodeo. Even more fortunate was that the boarding house lacked the more dangerous kinds of magical household pests. No ghost, or poltergeist or boggarts. 

The first two are something I just can’t deal with without serious preparations, and the latter one is a pain in the ass. It can be frightened of with the right kind of psychological exercise, even without magic, but It never leaves for long, and could disrupt my concentration in every hour and so. But as it goes, I was now alone with Hécate. 

Her name to be precise was PGM Hécate II. As an Anti-materiel rifle, she was designed to take out armoured vehicles by damaging critical parts, or taking out the driver. While the sawed off shotgun was capable of taking down an average wizard in close combat without much problem, I was pretty confident that there was no wizard alive who could survive being shot by Hécate. She was probably the deadliest equipment I had, especially if one doesn’t want huge explosions. The boarding house I occupied was at in position so I was able to see most of the road the precession is going to travel.

Unfortunately, not all of it of course, but you can’t have everything. Under the soundproof headphones I wore a small headpiece, the microphone of which was situated just before my mouth. I gave a similar one to the auror, I wasn’t sure if he was going to be able to use it, but he would at least hear what I tell him. The whole parade started at around ten o’clock in the morning.   
There were jugglers, foreign mages riding in magic carpets, actual centaurs and veelas, all sort of interesting thing. To be honest I felt a small pang of jealousy. I had to quickly sweep it aside as the black carriage turned down to my sights. The thestrals were the first thing I seen. The creatures were only vaguely horse like, they were skeletally thin. Their face ended in a mixture of reptilian and avian jaw, wings protruding from their back, now folded to their body. Their leathery skin glistened slightly in the sunshine. They were nightmarish beyond belief, and I had to swallow. On the other end of their rein, Weasley sat, in pitch black clothes. 

He had a similarly dark top hat, embroided with golden threads, forming an intricate vine motif. His blouse was also trimmed with gold, and so was his shoe buckle. The auror had face as sour as a lemon soaked in vinegar and his eyes darted from left to right. The middle of the road was cleared for the procession, and on the narrow stripes on the two sides, hundreds of people watched it, packed closely like sardines. Mingled in the crowd aurors protected the peace, about one in everyone hundred meter. Normal security, nothing out of ordinary. 

\- Do you see anything from where you are? - I heard Weasleys strained whisper under my noise protector. Well what the hell. He does know how to operate it. - I am dying in this clown costume. Its hotter than a phoenix arsehole.  
\- Nothing yet. - I answered, slowly scanning the sea of wizards and witches. Most them wore black robes, so distinguishing them wasn’t an easy task. I mostly had to watch out for anything ordinary. -Bit I will update you as soon as I spot something. - He grumbled some acknowledgement and then the procession continued. 

The chariot was around the middle of its road when I noticed something. To be precise I noticed something was missing. One of the aurors charged with crowd control duty was missing. I immediately tapped the little microphone.  
\- Weasley, one of your colleagues isn’t on her spot, on the left from you. She could have gone to toilette or to get some drink bu…- Before I could finish, four black robed figured jumped through the small cordon separating the viewers from the precession. 

Two wizards and two witches. The leader was a short man, with long fingernails, wearing an old Death Eater mask, it must have been Darien Selwyn. On his right hurried a middle-aged witch with short brown hair and a maddened expression on her face. A sort of maniac grin. Besides them were another witch, a smaller younger one with a piercing in both of his eyebrows, and a skull tattoo on her left cheek, and a man, nearly taller than Weasley, but much broader, gripping a stubby wand, almost as it were a miniature club. 

They raised their hands in unison, but thank to mar warning, the auror driving the chariot was faster than them. Two red, a green and a sickly green shot out of their wands. The first three impacted into some kind of shield before Weasleys wand, the fourth one missed the ducking aurors head by a hairs width. Their enemy suddenly jumped down to the other side of the chariot, and fired back something from cover. He doesn’t even tried to aim directly at them. He flicked his hands, and a huge jet of water erupted from the tip of his wand. It impacted just an inch before witch with the piercings and washed her legs out from under her. The other three dark wizards quickly used their own protective spells, and the water just evaporated around them.   
\- Now would be a good time to help! 

I heard Weasley shouting in my earpiece. I grumbled back, aiming with Hécate.  
\- I can’t, there are people on the trajectory. I can’t risk hitting them, lure them to the back of the chariot.   
\- OH, COME ON. - He started sprinting to the end of the chariot. The aspiring dark lord flicked his wand, and out from the wood a three meter long black snake erupted, quickly ducking under the Chariot of Remembrance. The snake swept its head to sunk its teeth inside Weasleys thigh, but the auror quickly spun around. 

The reptile was only able to bite the end of his robes. He shook it down by jumping out from cover at the end of the chariot, and doing a somersault on the ground, wand already ready. Unfortunately, he was now a perfect target for the dark wizards. If the auror would have been a moment late, he would have died. Three spells impacted into a hastily erected magical barrier, and Weasley was thrown back by the sheer force of them. The dark wizards hurried towards him to finish him of. Right into a safe firing arc. 

I aligned my shot, and then squeezed the trigger. A loud thunderclap erupted from the end of the gun, hearable even under my protector headgear. It must have been deafening without it. There was no muzzle flash, just the sound of the explosion. An undetectable small fraction of a second after me pulling the trigger, head sized hole appeared in the back of the masked dark wizard. The bullet doesn’t stop there, it continued on its way, striking the woman with the crazed eyes in her calf. It also disappeared, severing the leg, before the bullet finally embedded itself into the cobble stones of the Diagon Alley. 

A second of silence passed, the woman collapsed like a dropped coat, but the aspiring dark lord staggered forward pushed by the force of the bullet, before his body realized he was dead, and fall like a log. The tall muscular dark wizard froze in complete surprise. So, did Weasley, but he was much quicker on the uptake than the big guy. He shouted something flicking his wand upwards, and thick thorny vines erupted from the cobble stones, encompassing the dark wizard before he could react.

He tried to struggle once, but the vines reacted by tightening around him, prickling him with their thorns, so he quieted down. I scanned for the fourth dark wizard, the one Weasley knocked of her feet at the start of the fight…And I was pleasantly surprised. She must have been swept right to the edge of the cordon, and was now surrounded by adult wizards, at least twenty wands pointing directly at her face from a couple of centimetres away. She tried to remain very, very still. I let out a satisfied sigh, and started to disassemble Hécate before anyone came searching for the origin of the thunderclap. 

\--

I met Weasley about an hour later in the parking lot where I left my car. He gave me a courteous nod, and returned my earpiece.   
\- Are you, all right? - I asked him to inspect his dirty ceremonial chariot driver suit. Its black was now stained with small specks of blood, and stains of common dirt.  
\- A couple of bruises due to that shield charm failure and my unneeded acrobatics. Nothing serious. - He dusted himself of a little.  
\- The dark wizards? - I asked putting the ear piece back into the depths of my pockets.   
\- Darien Selwyn died, and so does Sarah Yaxley, the woman with the short hair, crazy eyes? The one you hit in the leg, that was her. That was one hell of a shot right there. – It would have been one hell of a shot if it was intentional. Truth to be told I only aimed for Selwyn. That the bullet also struck the woman was pure unadulterated luck. I haven’t even see half of her body from where I was perched. But the auror don’t have to know that.   
\- Yes. Yes, it was. How did she die? Shock? - He shook his head looking at the distance.  
\- Blood loss. Unfortunate, those two might have told us something important. – I raised my eyebrows, leaning on the car. I have to replace the security measure, the missing piece was really uncomfortable on my ass.  
\- Like what?  
\- Like who the hell told them how your car look like. You yourself said that they knew that we are after them. 

I sighed rubbing my temple. Shit, the auror is right. Well of course it could have been one of the patrons from Thomas. I told him that. He tilted his head. - Possible, but I wouldn’t rule out the possibility that it was someone from the inside. They could have dispelled that possibility. Or solidified. - I shrugged my shoulder.  
\- What happened, happened. You can’t always be delicate with dark wizards, they can do horrible things with you if you are not cautious enough. - He looked me in mock surprise.  
\- You don’t say Mr Guile, I never knew. It’s not like I work as an auror or something. - I frowned at him, but I couldn’t stop a smile from spreading on my face. He too grinned like an idiot.

\- Touché Weasley… Well anyway. Tell your bosses that they can send me my wage on the usual way. He nodded again , and extended his hand to a handshake. I glanced at his eyes and shook it. After that I took out a small business card and slipped in his hands.   
– This is my work number. If you ever have a problem you can’t solve within the system as an auror, just call me. I give you some kind of discount, 10% maximum. -He eyed me, and then the small business card.   
\- Is this real? - I shrugged opening my car and stepping inside.   
\- I can’t just go around advertising what I do, can I? Ask for Thylacine. - I quite liked my business card. If I happened to lose some of them, no one would know what they represent just by looking at them.

I gave the auror one last nod, and the started the car, disappearing into the everyday traffic of the city. I still caught him slipping the card into the inner pocket of his robe. Weasley was a likable guy. He couldn’t really afford my fares on an auror wage, but at least I was sure that If he do, scrape it together, it’s going to be a damned important thing and not just some small task. And he was pure blood, who, never called me just “squib’ even after he knew that I was one. Still he was an auror, so I have to rearrange the security measures on my car, and get some new guns too.   
He might stay silent about Hécate and the shotgun, but it never hurts to prepare. And If I am already going shopping, I think I will visit the Weasley shop in a couple of day, after they cleared of the blood from the cobble stones of the Diagon Alley. Maybe I can order those spell protective robes in a more practical style. Like a leather jacket or something. Worth considering…

\--

It was a couple of weeks later when my phone rang. I would like to say that I did some very macho and trouble-shootery thing during it, like cleaning my guns, or doing push-ups while my body glistened in the sunlight, but truth to be told I was having my breakfast. Chocolate cereal to be precise. I swallowed the spoonful, and wiped my mouth. I coughed a little, adjusted my face accent and answered the phone like this:  
\- Crickey mate! G’dday, you called Aussie Dave travelling animal show. We have koalas, kangaroos, wallabies, wombats and dingoes for days. You heard it, dingoes for days. What can I help ya with? - There was a moment of silence from the other side before a hesitant voice answered.  
\- T..Thylacine. I want Thylacine. – I answered with a fake chuckle.   
-We are a bit short on that mate, but I will transfer ya to the boss. He will arrange something. -I pushed a button on the phone to transfer it to another one. A much more secure line, and then answered it with a serious voice.  
\- Mr. Guile. Trouble-shooter. Your trouble, I shoot it. 

There was an audible sigh from the other side. As I already said. I love my business card. It depicts a small koala giving a thumbs up in front of the Australian flag with the number and “The world most underappreciated Animal Show! Order it and you get it!”, slogan. My tech guy was an Australian, he was the one who set it up for me. 

The client gave me a location, and a time for a meeting. It wasn’t the usual cave, but a small deserted lake, not far from the same forest. It made me a little bit suspicious, so I arrived with my shotgun under my new leather jacket, and with a couple of trinkets I got from the Weasley joke shop. It was a veritable treasure trove of magic items usable even by a squib like me, even more if I combine some of them with more mundane accessories. For example Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder combined with trip wires and explosives…I didn’t have time to test it, but it must be quite effective. I was ready for almost anything. Except the identity of my new clients. 

When the arranged time came, I was already there for a minute and a half. Two small pop could be heard, like when a car’s engine have trouble starting, and a pair of dark hooded figure arrived, wands at the ready. My shotgun was already in my hand, ready to shoot before one of them spoke.  
\- Easy Mr. Guile, we are just secure this place. – I looked at him, and then at his compatriot. I was unable to see their faces under the heavy dark hoods. Well, either I have a battle to the death, or a job today. Let’s aim for the later one. I nodded slowly and they took a step towards the woods. They started to wave their wands around, mumbling spells left and right. 

I got the general feel about them, they were mostly worked among the line of concealment, and disillusionment, although I only heard one of them, the one in the left said something like “muffliato”. I lowered my weapon, but visibly not holstered it. Better safe, than sorry. When the duo finished their preparations, they stopped and stepped closer. I tightened my grip on the stock of my shotgun. They threw down their hoods, and I was treated with two faces straight from the covers of magazines.   
\- Mr. Guille. - Said the one with white blond hair which he wore in a ponytail, nodding. Its partner also nodded at me. He was around the same age, he wore round glasses, had a relatively short black hair and a faded scar on his forehead above his eye. It was a very familiar kind of scar. The kind of which you can buy from every magical corner stone as a kind of temporary tattoo for children’s who wish to play heroes. Except this was the real deal. Why can’t I be contracted to a no name gardener for once. – We have a business position for you. - Said again the first man, with a slight condescending smile on his face, seeing my surprise. I quickly beat down my astonishment and looked at him square in the eye as we two have already met on some kind of formal dinner and I wasn’t too terrible impressed by him on the first time.  
\- Really? And what does Draco Malfoy, a former death eater…- He winced when I said that. That’s what you get for surprising me you smug bastard. - And Harry Potter the hero of the wizarding world wants from a humble trouble shooter like me? - Malfoy smiled again, just as smugly as before. Then again maybe it was just his face. Some people have that kind of expression even if they don’t want to. A tragic fate if one wishes to visit any kind of pub, without bodyguards, but apparently it doesn’t limit survivability in the upper circle of magic society.   
\- We need you to break into the Malfoy Manor and steal an artefact from there. – I blinked at him. Then did it again.  
\- Lets make it clear. You want me to break into your house. A house you already own. And steal an artefact from it. An artefact…which…  
\- Which I also own. Yes. That’s exactly what I want from you. -I gave out a small sigh, then smiled.   
\- Of course. All right. Why not?


End file.
